


Never Say Never

by 2Dsheep



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff, M/M, one of the fluffiest things I've written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 03:08:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6102822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Dsheep/pseuds/2Dsheep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erwin doesn’t cook. So when Levi is half way up their garden path and smells burning, he panics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Say Never

Erwin doesn’t cook. Even before he lost his arm seeing him in the kitchen was as rare a sight as a Titan reciting poetry.

He was always much more at home sat at his desk than in front of a hot stove, more suited to commanding a legion of soldiers than whisking egg yolks or sautéing vegetables.

Levi was never much of a cook either. Food was simply vital for survival. Things like taste, presentation or quality ingredients weren’t important when you hadn’t eaten for three days.

But now that they’re no longer in the Survey Corps, the war having been won years ago, they were forced to learn to cook or live off bread and cheese for the rest of their lives.

Well.

“They”.

Erwin now has a lifelong exemption from cooking duty. The vast majority of kitchen tools and techniques require two hands, after all. As much as Levi likes to complain, he really doesn’t mind too much that he is the one who cooks every evening. Not when he is rewarded with a gentle smile every time Erwin has the first taste, even for something as simple as vegetable soup.

Erwin doesn’t cook. So when Levi is half way up their garden path and smells burning, he panics. It can’t be from anywhere but their own home as the nearest house is a ten minute walk the way he came.

Levi has been to the market this morning. Usually Erwin would accompany him but he had complained that his stump was aching, which happens from time to time, so Levi had made the hour walk by himself, buying the necessities for the week. The bag containing them however, are thrown to the ground as Levi sprints into their cottage. Domesticity has tamed Levi, now too accustomed to the stability that they have somehow managed to keep. Life has fallen into a routine and when it is jolted by something unexpected he feels everything move under his feet, especially where Erwin is concerned. He didn’t fight to keep Erwin alive all those years to lose him after they find peace.

He slams open the front door only to come inches away from head-butting said man in the chest.

“Levi?”

“Erwin! Is everything all right, is there something burning? What’s happened?”

Levi glances around to see what he can of the cottage and then up at Erwin’s face, but he doesn’t look at all panicked or distressed. In fact, he simply looks…embarrassed?

“Ah, that. That I can explain, but first, why don’t you grab the shopping?”

Levi casts a glance behind him to see the dried meat and cheeses scattered across the lawn. Now he is the one who feels embarrassed.

“You need to stop worrying Levi. Remember when I scratched myself on a thorn bush and you started panicking about the possibility of septicemia?” Erwin chuckles

Levi looks away, concentrating harder than would ever be necessary for putting items back into a bag. Erwin refuses to let him forget that story.

“There were just too many times when we were in the military…times when I wasn’t there and you got hurt,” Levi admits, voice quiet.

Erwin comes to the grass and kneels down beside him. He presses a kiss to Levi’s forehead, lingering for a moment as he brushes his thumb on Levi’s cheek.

“Let’s not talk about that. Not now.” He gives another kiss, this time on the lips. “Follow me.”

Levi hates uncertainty, but if he can trust Erwin as a commander then he can trust him as a husband, as unofficial as this title may be. He follows Erwin through the hall, the smell of burning now simply lingering as something faint in the air, barely noticeable. They stop in the kitchen.

The kitchen is Levi’s pride and joy. He’d never been much of a cook but in recent years he has come to enjoy it. His kitchen, slate tiled floor, hardwood worktops with a sleek varnish finish, pots and pans of all sizes perfectly arranged in dedicated spaces. It is pristine. It is immaculate…usually. Levi supposes he can’t call this a disaster, but it is certainly not how he left it this morning.

His pans are spread across every worktop, bowls and utensils sticking every which way from the sink. He can see a trail of something sticky along the floor and up a cupboard door, and is that…potato peelings on the wall? What the hell is that brown stuff smudged all over Levi’s dishcloths that he had only taken off the line this morning?

Levi is about to open his mouth, and he’s not entirely sure about what is going to come out of it. Just before what feels like the beginning of a gargled scream, Erwin puts a hand on his shoulder and steers him to look to his left at the kitchen table. Everything that Levi was about to say dies in his throat and instead he gasps softly.

Their kitchen table stands under the window which looks over their back garden, backed by rows of fields, plains of gold and green. But the view outside their window, the sun dangling over the hilltop at the horizon is nothing compared to what is atop the kitchen table.

Tulips of all colours from Erwin’s garden burst from the glass vase in the centre. If the kitchen is Levi’s pride and joy then the garden is Erwin’s, but even the explosion of colour pales in comparison to the sight of two meals sat on the placemats.

After taking the bag from his arms, Erwin pulls back a chair for Levi to sit allowing him to get a good look at the plate of food. It’s a simple meal of meat, vegetables and potatoes but Levi feels as if his heart could swell.

“You timed this perfectly,” Levi queries, noticing that the plate is still steaming.

“You have a routine which doesn’t deviate by more than 10 minutes.” Erwin quips, quick as ever, only a slight hint of mocking.

“Unless you come with me, demanding to go to every stall because there is a sale or something looks interesting or because the vendor smiled at you, thus completely ruining my schedule.”

Erwin laughs softly, and Levi can’t help but smile too.

He looks down at the sizeable slab of beef that takes up half of the plate. Levi recalls how he told Erwin last week that he was fancying a good steak only to have Erwin tell him that the butcher would be out of their favoured cut for at least two weeks. This sneaky bastard.

Even from a quick glance he can tell the meat has been overcooked, slightly charred and blackened at the edges, but looking at Erwin’s portion he realises it could have been much worse. Its saving grace is the thick, steaming gravy which simply looks divine. Levi examines the pile of vegetables filling up the other half of the plate. The pieces are all misshapen, a large variance in shape and size, and more than half haven’t been peeled properly. Levi imagines Erwin struggling to handle the vegetable peeler with only his left arm, fiddly as it is even for Levi with two hands. He can’t imagine how difficult it must have been trying to cut through a turnip without another hand to steady it.

“I’m sorry it doesn’t look like much… and I can’t promise much about the taste either –”

Levi stops him with a wave of his hand, stare transfixed on the plate in front of him. A bubbling of emotions sits light and frothy in his chest and he doesn’t know which one to latch on to. He can’t decide whether he needs to confront or caress them.

“When did you…” he coughs, trying to calm down. Even after all these years Erwin knows just how to make his heart race. Levi finally looks up but with Erwin’s blues twinkling like that in the late afternoon glow, he almost forgets how to breathe. “How did…why?”

Erwin smiles ever so softly, and as if struck shy he looks away from Levi briefly, a dusky rose blossoming on his cheeks. Oh. Levi would do anything to see that again. He wants to stare, paint the image in his mind but then Erwin is talking. 

“I have never been able to cook, even before I lost my arm. But I always thought it was one of the most romantic gestures. On one of my good days, when I imagined an end to the war, I wanted nothing more than to welcome you home to a cooked meal.”

His voice has become soft and wistful, and as always Levi finds himself lulled, lost in his daydream. Even the sadness laced in his words is somewhat soothing, because it reminds him of how happy they are now.

“Where did you learn to do this?”

“I asked Sandra from up the hill for a few cooking tips when I took her some herbs last week.” He replies, casting a nervous glance at Levi’s plate. “I haven’t really had time to practice so do forgive me if it’s awful. I promise I won’t be offended if you can’t eat it.”

“Erwin.”

“Hm?”

“Just shut up.”

Levi is staring at Erwin’s hand, sleeve pushed back to reveal his forearm. Usually Levi would be lost thinking of sin when granted with such a sight, but he is fixated on the small cuts slithering up his fingers and slivers of burns, silvery against his skin. He has only just noticed them. It hits him once more, the realisation of how much effort Erwin must have gone through to do this. What could he have done to deserve a man like Erwin?

Levi decides, regardless of taste, he is going to eat every damn bite. He picks up his knife and fork, and ignoring the need to run for the first aid-kit to fix Erwin’s hand while scolding the stupid man, he starts with the cut of meat. It is clearly overcooked. Levi doesn’t like a bloody slab of beef on his plate but this is fairly tough. It might take him an hour to chew through the whole thing but the taste isn’t bad, especially with the thick smothering of gravy which might just be the best gravy he has ever tasted. He can’t believe that he might have to turn to Erwin of all people to ask for cooking tips. The same man who once suggested that Levi use yoghurt for the pancakes when they ran out of milk stating “well, they’re both dairy”.

Owing to their varied sizes some of the vegetables are close to raw and some are almost mush, but at least half of them have been cooked well.

He looks up at Erwin to see that he has yet to touch his food, instead watching Levi with a mixture of trepidation and eagerness. He really is too precious, sometimes. Levi swallows his food before speaking, looking Erwin in the eye as he says, “it’s not bad.”

Levi hates that that is all he can give, still not eloquent with his words and even less so for compliments, but Erwin gleams as if Levi had just bestowed the highest of honours.

Erwin finally begins to eat his meal too, though his face is unreadable. They eat in a comfortable silence, until Levi realises that Erwin is only eating the vegetables and potatoes.

Without a word Levi leans over and cuts the steak into smaller pieces.

“I’m sorry, Levi”

“Don’t be. What have I told you?”

“I bought wine too, but the corkscrew –”

“That’s just as well. I don’t like wine with my dinner.” Levi admits. “We’ll drink that in the garden after we’ve cleared up.”

Erwin nods, a small smile at the turn of his lips, and finally has a taste of his steak.

“It’s a bit overdone.”

“Well yeah, couldn’t you tell before you took a bite? The black gives it away.”

Laughter from both of them dances in the air between them. Levi thinks of a hundred things he wants to say, his chest aching as it all builds up inside, but he relaxes as he remembers that they now have all the time in the world. He could admit a thousand things and there would still be days and weeks and years left for the two of them.

He does want to say one thing though.

“From now on, if you ever want to, we can…y’know…cook together. I don’t know much, but I can teach you what I do know.”

“I would love that, Levi.”

“We’ll have to think of something to make cutting easier for you, but we’ll work something out.”

They each finish every bite of the meal. The cleaning is done just in time to catch the last of the evening sun before it dips into the horizon. Wine glass in hand, Levi nestles further into Erwin’s shoulder, keeping an eye out for the first star of the night.

“Who would have ever thought we would be able to live a life like this?” Erwin says, fingers tracing lazy patterns over Levi’s thighs.

“Yet here we are.”

Levi had once thought that peace wouldn’t suit him, too many fractures in his being that would ache for the stillness of it all, a fire inside him that would burn the coolness of calm, leaving but a pile of ashes at Erwin’s feet. But here he is, and here they are living as if the world has slowed just for them.

“And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”


End file.
